Afterimage
by analine
Summary: With Haru in the lane next to Rin, suddenly everything feels different, more alive.


**Title:** Afterimage  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** no warnings; spoilers through episode 4  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word Count:** 1,317  
**Beta:** kaitou_marron

**Summary:** With Haru in the lane next to Rin, suddenly everything feels different, more alive.

**Notes**: Introspective/character study fic covering the first few episodes of the anime - basically just me trying to make sense of Rin's actions after that first race with Haru. Many thanks to kaitou_marron for looking this over for me, and for the moral support!

* * *

Rin slices through the pool. His legs pump; his arms catch and pull the water, clearing a path for his body as he plunges forward.

Movement and purpose, skill and speed. These are the things that drive Rin, that propel him through the water, but with Haru in the lane next to him, suddenly everything feels different, more alive.

The water turns electric, like a switch has been flipped. There's a spark of passion, of pure _enjoyment_ in Haru's eyes, but it's more than that. Rin sees that spark in himself, reflected there.

He remembers this feeling. The water moving alongside his body, the steady rhythm of his breath, the harmony when all of it comes together.

It's what's been missing these past few years, Rin thinks. It has to be. And in that moment, there's no anger, no bitterness, no history between them, just _water, _pure and clear.

Suddenly Rin wants this more than anything, wants to be here in the water. He hasn't felt this way in years.

_Amazing_, Rin thinks. _Haru is amazing._

His heart races as he soars through the water. It pulses with life; he can feel it dancing across his skin as he turns, pushes off. The momentum builds and builds.

And then it's over.

He's won. He's beaten Haru for the first time in his life.

It feels like a victory at first, too, as adrenaline floods his body, jolting him up and out of the water.

It feels like the most important victory of his life, right up until he sees Haru's face, and realizes that Haru was never really competing with him in the first place.

The moment is gone, and Rin is right back where he started. Where he's always been.

* * *

It's infuriating how calm Haru's face had been in that moment, losing.

It's been a week since that night, but the anger doesn't fade, it burns inside of him, white hot and all-consuming.

Suddenly Rin is twelve years old again. It's winter break, and he can hardly see through his tears, he's so _mad_. He can't stop them, either; they just keep coming, spilling down over his cheeks and onto his knees. He's angry, but more than that he's embarrassed and he's completely heartbroken, because losing to Haru in that moment feels like the end of the world. It feels like everything he's ever worked for has been taken from him, and worse than that, it's been taken from him _easily _from someone who has nothing at all to prove to him and nothing to lose. For the first time in his life, Rin is glad that his father isn't around to see this.

Anger has always been a funny thing for Rin, motivating him and discouraging him in equal parts.

He thinks of the rush he'd gotten the other night, racing Haru for the first time in so long, thinks of that naïve sense of excitement he could see in Haru, in himself, and his anger starts to change shape.

It turns brittle and pointed, like ice, poised there on the tip of his tongue like a dagger.

But more than anything, it's convinced him.

Rin wants to _swim_. For Samezuka, for Haru, for his father, for himself, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he wants to do it.

* * *

With motivation comes pressure though, pressure that sits like a rock on his chest, pulling and tugging him down.

It tells him that all of his hard work means nothing without _talent. _

It tells him he can never have what Haru has, that wanting to swim is nice, but it's not enough.

It tells him lots of things and then it pulls him down, deep underwater, and he thinks of his father, thinks of storms and boats and waves so big even Haru wouldn't be able to tame them.

* * *

It's three weeks later, and Rin still sees it every time he closes his eyes, every time his head plunges underwater in that pool. The bottom of the ocean is deep and dark and vast and empty. Sometimes it seems like it's getting closer every day.

He sees the spark that had shimmered in Haru's eyes that night at the pool, too, that infuriating, unguarded focus, laser-sharp and clear.

Haru, who obviously hasn't been training for months, who's never been serious about winning anything in his life, but who could probably break every record in the world if he wanted to.

Haru, who told him once that the water was _alive_. It was childish and ridiculous, and worst of all Rin had believed him.

Not anymore though.

Sure, he'd caught a glimpse of something in Haru's eyes that night, in the rush of excitement that had flooded through his body, racing Haru like it was the most important thing in the world. In that moment, maybe it had been.

But all of that is underscored now by the realization that he's been yearning after a moment in time that has long since passed. What's missing isn't this, isn't Haru, or what Haru can show him in the water.

All of that is just an echo, an afterimage. Like that shimmer of light in Haru's eyes before they dove into the water that night.

None of it matters now.

Maybe it never had.

* * *

Rin dreams, and in his dream, he's at the bottom of the ocean. Haru floats above him.

"Don't underestimate the water," Haru says. "Don't insult it, either."

There's anger in Haru's eyes, more anger than Rin thinks he's ever seen before, and it's all directed at him. It sends a shiver down his spine, raises the hairs on the back of his head.

Rin gasps, and water starts to fill his lungs. Haru doesn't say another word, but his eyes tell him that Rin is becoming his father, that the thing Rin has always wanted will be his downfall. They tell him that Rin's father had underestimated the water, but that it's okay - it's an okay way to go in the end, becoming one with the ocean and the waves and the black sands that shift and churn down here in the deepest depths.

And then Haru _smiles_, a thin, scary smile, bubbles rising up from around his lips, and Rin starts awake, panting, his heart stuttering up against his ribs.

* * *

After four straight days of dreams almost identical to this, or worse, dreams that feature his father, Rin realizes what he has to do.

He has to have a rematch.

A real race with Haru. A victory at the prefectural tournament will be official, undeniable. Enough time has passed so that Haru will be in better shape by then, too. It's _this _victory that matters most, Rin tells himself.

He'll show Haru the real difference between them. He'll show him the power of true competition. Of determination and willpower_. _He'll show Haru the strength of having a real dream, a real purpose. He'll prove to Haru that being serious counts for something.

His victory will be undeniable proof that hard work matters.

And then Rin will leave this afterimage behind once and for all. He'll expose it for what it is – a fleeting impression of the past - and he'll watch it disappear.

He'll watch it sink to the bottom of the ocean and stay there, buried, once and for all.

He'll beat Haru, and then he'll never swim with him again. He'll be free of that burden.

It doesn't occur to him, what will happen if he fails. Or if he wins, and it turns out that this victory is just as meaningless as the first one had been.

Moving forward is the only thing that matters. It almost makes Rin giddy, thinking about it, makes his breath catch in his throat and his heart pound.

There's only one way to move forward, and that's by securing his victory.

And he can't _wait_.

**end**


End file.
